


a shining new era, is tiptoeing nearer

by Yaoiloverread



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney's The Lion King, Mentions of Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:04:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiloverread/pseuds/Yaoiloverread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Wolf/The Lion King crossover. Because that's just what this fandom needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. RUN

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magneticwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticwave/gifts).
  * Inspired by [tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/521387) by [magneticwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticwave/pseuds/magneticwave). 



> So, this is for magneticwave, whose story (and additional comments to my comments) got me thinking about the logistics of this fic. Here's to you.
> 
> P.S.: Sorry it's taken so long. :D

CHAPTER 1: RUN

Derek finds Uncle Peter about a mile from the human camp. He's biting into some sort of prey, great big chunks out of the sides, which is odd, because Uncle Peter's normally such a neat eater.

"Uncle Peter-", he starts, about to ask what he's doing so close to the humans, before he is shushed.

"Ah, Derek," Uncle Peter says, carefully wiping his mouth against the tall grass to the side. "What is it?"

He's looking over at Derek carefully, as though Derek was about to leap over and try to fight him for his meal, like he used to, as a rambunctious cub. This distance between them feels wrong, so Derek draws closer, trying to figure out what's different. He accidentally treads too close, and Peter snarls at him, before he lowers his eyes and steps back (Laura is always telling him to stand up more for himself, but he doesn't want to be rude to his favorite uncle).

"Dad's looking for you."

"Ah, our glorious leader awaits." There's something mean in the way he says that, as though he's mocking Dad, but then Uncle Peter's always been that way, so Derek ignores it. "Well then, I should be off. Wouldn't want him to worry." He steps back, meal half-eaten, and pads past Derek.

"By the way, Derek," he calls back over his shoulder. "Could you help me finish this up? I wouldn't want to waste anything." And then he leaves.

Derek moves towards the prey, since Dad always said not to waste food.

Up close, he frowns. It's not any kind of prey he's seen before - not deer, not buffalo, not even giraffe. It's a very odd-looking food, albeit all mauled up, from when Uncle Peter brought it down. It must have been a very tough catch, he thinks, looking at all the bites. He scrunches up his nose, and tries a tentative nibble on a limb. It doesn't taste very good, with a weird rough skin that's still soaked in blood. He takes another bite anyway, jaw coming away covered in red. Yuck.

Suddenly there's a bang in the air, loud and crackling like thunder, and he jumps. He looks up.

It's the humans.

There are humans coming towards him, and they keep moving back and forth like they're trying to stalk him. But he can see them very well from where he's crouched. He tries to keep as still as he can, remembering the stories that Laura used to try to scare him with, about the humans that took away members of the Pride, never to return.

'Stay still', Dad's voice goes through his mind, that old bit of advice back when he was first starting to hunt. 'Stay still, and quiet, and don't let them notice you.'

But it's so hard to follow, and he's so scared. And anyway, the next step would be 'and then jump and attack', and Derek knew it didn't apply to humans, because the Pride didn't attack humans, they had a Code. So he runs instead.

The humans must have seen him, because there is a great shout, and then more thunder booms through the air. He doesn't know where to go, he can't go back to the Pride, because then the humans will follow him, and find them, and- wait, there's the old canyon that he used to play in with Laura, back when they were small cubs. He changes direction halfway through, and sprints for the entrance, the humans chasing after him all the while.

Now he's in the canyon, and racing towards the other end, when he is shot in the back. It hurts, and Derek imagines that it is a bolt of lightning, like in thunderstorms on the plains, that has struck him down like the dead trees that it hits. He tries to get back up, but he can see the humans coming closer and closer, and he cannot move.

One of the humans raises a stick, and points it at him.

BANG.

Derek waits for the pain, the stroke of lightning to jolt his body, but it never comes. He opens his eyes.

It's Dad. He's bleeding from his side, but he's still standing strong, and he snarls menacingly at the humans to back off. Derek whimpers at the sound - he doesn't know what he did wrong, but whatever it is, it's really bad if he needs Dad to be here.

Dad hasn't turned to face Derek, not once, but now he speaks to him.

"Derek. I'm going to hold them off, and I need you to run ahead."

"Dad-"

"Do you hear me?" this last part is growled out, and Derek can see some of the other humans bringing up their own sticks in response. He struggles upright, and moves to stand by his Pride leader.

"Derek!" Dad barks out, never taking his eyes off the humans, standing as a shield against them. "As your Pride leader, I am ordering you to **run**." Derek flinches back, but does as he says. He tries his best to ignore the sounds of fighting behind him, tries to stop the tears from falling, as he runs away without his Pride leader.

As he leaves the canyon, as he runs away like a _coward_ , he hears one last, ominous shot before the roars are silenced... and knows that his Pride leader is dead because of him.

 

~

 

Derek runs and runs, until he cannot any more, and then he keeps on moving. He can't return to his Pride - he cannot go back to see the looks on everyone's faces, when they find out that he's killed his Dad, his own Pride leader. He imagines Laura's horror-stricken face, imagines Mom turning away from him because he killed Dad, and- he can't, he can't ever go back. He knows this.

He is without a Pride, without a Pack. He will definitely be killed soon, whether by a prey that he cannot hope to take down by himself, or by another Pride, on whose territory he will trespass. He finds that he doesn't mind the idea of that, of dying. It is only fair, after all, since he should have died, should have been the one to die instead of- no, he won't go there, he will not think of it, because it will tear him apart. As it already is.

He keeps going, until he reaches a desert. He can see trees over on the far side, and thinks to himself that they won't find him there. So he sets off across the dry ground, cracked and sandy against his paws, but as the hours pass, and the sun remains high up in the sky, beating its rays down against his back, against the wound that he received to his back. The blood has dried out ages ago, and it he can feel it, stuck to his skin like a brand. _Coward_ , it seems to say, _look how I ran. I left my back to the humans, the predators, and I ran away_.

Every step echoes this thought, and he starts to slow down, until, before he knows it, he comes to a stop. He can't find the energy to keep on going any more, the faint remains of his Dad's voice telling him to keep on running are nearly faded out by now, and he's just so tired. Maybe he can just lay down here, and curl up and die, and no one would notice, no one else would care because he's all alone now.

He closes his eyes.

 

~

 

When he wakes up, he blinks at the green canopy above him. This... was not the desert.

Maybe he's dead already?

A crash sounds behind him, and he quickly jumps up, only to sink back down again. His back feels like it's on fire, the wound gaping open to bleed more onto the soft spongy ground. And then is something else. He turns to look, as much as he can.

There's a meerkat on his back, is his first thought. Why a meerkat? They're too small to be good prey.

Next to the meerkat, on the ground and the source of the crash, is a warthog. Which is only slightly more acceptable, Derek supposes, except that he's not really hungry. _Not after what happened the last time._

This particular meerkat is yelling at him to stay still, but he can't do that, he needs to keep on moving, and Derek shakes him off. The meerkat lands with an oomph, and gets up, a slight fierce scowl on his face.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" he yells up at Derek. "I've just spent the last... however many hours trying to put you back together, me and Scott, and we'd appreciate it if you decided to stay still for a moment, while we try to close the _gaping wound on your back_ , maybe?" For a moment, he reminds Derek of Laura - it sounded like something she'd say if she was there, but then Derek remembers why she isn't, and stubbornly tries to get up again. He needs to keep moving.

The meerkat doesn't look too impressed at his efforts to stand. "Oh, for- Hey! You're still hurt." He darts over to Derek's side, paws coming up as if to prop Derek up. As far as attempts go, it's not very successful. Derek shrugs off his grip.

"I need to go." He starts to move straight ahead, to where he doesn't know, but it'll take him away from here-

"Oi!" the shout is indignant behind him. "All that work, and this is the thanks we get?"

Derek stops. He turns about, and strides back towards the meerkat, until he's looming over the small figure. "Yes. I didn't kill you, now, did I?" The meerkat flinches back, before standing up straighter in return. "Well, that's really lousy thanks then. And do you know how heavy you were, hmm? Scott nearly broke his back trying to move you in here." He gestures over towards the warthog, who looks like he didn't want to draw Derek's attention.

"Then he should have just left me there. Problem solved."

"No, not problem solved. Big problem. We can't have people dying on us, it's really uncomfortable and creepy and gross, and besides, it's just not right!" Derek tenses at that.

"Just back off, alright?" He leans forward towards the meerkat and gives him one of his better snarls.

"No. Sourcat," the meerkat says, crossing his paws. He is strangely undaunted. "I've had it with you moving about. No more Mister Nice Guy. Scott!" he tilts his head at Derek in a 'get him' motion.

The warthog runs in front of him, in front of the meerkat, and then there's- _Oh ****, what is that smell-?_

 

~

 

When Derek wakes up, he can tell that he's in a deeper part of the forest. He can hear the voices of his two 'rescuers'.

"Stiles, maybe we should have just let him go."

"Scott, don't be such a doofus. He's injured, we can't just let him walk about. What if he dies?"

"Then we won't be anywhere near him."

"So cruel, Scott. And even after we helped him out with his back."

They sound like they're standing near him, but possibly out of his reach. That's smart. He's going to kill them for that stunt. Even now, he tries not to cringe at the memory of that smell.

The meerkat - Stiles - is still talking. "- I wonder if he wants the bullet, you know, like a memento or something. An 'I got shot' souvenir."

And Derek tenses up. He opens his eyes.

Scott and Stiles are staring back, the latter holding a weird object. It sort of looks like a cross between a stick and a bug, but Stiles' paws are unwieldy around the small thing. He blinks.

"What is that?" Both the warthog and meerkat look towards what he's holding.

"This?" Stiles holds it up. Derek nods impatiently. "It's a bullet. It was in your back. It's what the humans would have shot you with."

In his back? Derek remembered the pain from before. Like a lightning strike, he had thought. It was hard to believe that it actually came from something so tiny. Actually,

"How do you know? About the humans, how do you know so much?" he questions them. Stiles looks a bit sheepish.

"Well, I used to live with them. I mean, a human, one human, really. He was nice." But Derek isn't listening any more.

"You lived with- those- what-?"

"Humans?" Stiles answers drily. "Yeah, I did. Got a problem with that?"

"Yes!"

Before he can stand (and flee) again, Scott is in front of him. He tries not to cringe back, but it is a near thing. Stiles pats Scott's side.

"And if you try to move again, you'll get another blast of the Scott-power." Derek grumbled, but sat back down. He really didn't want a repeat.

"If this is some sort of kidnapping-" he starts.

"Ooh, kidnapping. Wait, actually that sounds really bad. How about 'forced bed rest'? That sounds much better, doesn't it? Bed rest, then you'll heal and you can try to tear our heads off later. With your teeth. Which look really, really sharp." Derek smirks, making sure to show as much teeth as he can in a wolfish grin. Scott's looking a bit pale, and looks to be questioning why he's come along for the ride.

Stiles blithely ignores the both of them. "- pull up some grass, make yourself comfortable. We're gonna be here for a while."


	2. HIDE

CHAPTER 2: HIDE

Stiles is annoying.

No, make that - Stiles is annoying, and if he keeps on talking, Derek will _rip his throat out_.

"OK, then, take it easy, Sourcat, no need for growling, really, we're all friends here-"

With his _teeth_.

Stiles sighs. "Come on, big guy, do you think I'm doing all this just to torment you or something?"

"Yes."

"Sheesh, no faith in me at all." Derek glares at him. "Look, your wound needs to heal."

"I _know_ ," he growls it out.

"And to do that, you need to stay. Still." Stiles is grinning. In the background, Scott just looks like he'd be sick. "That means no moving."

"I know that!"

"Do you, really? Do you want to know what happens if you don't stop trying to get up? Do you?" Stiles barges on before Derek can answer that, again. "The hole in your skin will get bigger and bigger, and if you don't DIE from losing too much blood, or from dying of thirst from too much sun and not enough water, or getting sick because you don't sleep enough, or from having your organs fall out one by one because you keep jumping up and down... well, that's what the vultures are for, I guess."

Derek cannot understand how such a small thing can talk so much.

"Hey Scott, back me up here, bro!" To his credit (and possibly eventual demise), Scott stares him straight in the eyes, bracing himself.

"You should listen to Stiles. He's smart like that."

"Aw, thanks." And if Derek has to listen to any more of this, he cannot be held accountable for his actions. It's been days since he left, and he knows he can't go back. But that doesn't stop him from missing everyone.

"... want to tell us why you were out there by yourself anyway?" he looks up. They're both staring back at him, curiosity, and sympathy in their eyes.

He doesn't want their pity.

"NO!" he snarls at them. Stiles topples over from the force of his voice and, before Derek can leap at him, Scott is protecting Stiles with his own body.

"Fine then." Scott says, voice remarkably level. His gaze is calm as he watches Derek back, even though Stiles is banging against his leg to ' _let me up, you're heavy!_ '. "If you don't want to tell us, you don't have to. But sometimes it'll make you feel better."

"Well, it won't."

"You don't know that."

Derek loses it.

"No, YOU don't know that." He gets up, ignoring the pang from his back, and runs.

Behind him, he can hear Stiles berating Scott.

 

~

 

Hours later, or what feels like days later, he wants to collapse. He's so tired, he just wants to go home, he wants to see Dad, his Pride leader, and know that he's alright with his own eyes. That he'd hadn't killed his own father... that _that day_ had never happened. He misses Laura.

There's a water hole nearby, he can smell it, and he's so thirsty that he disregards the slight warnings in his mind. It doesn't matter anyway, when he steps in the trap, metal claws clanging shut around his leg. It hurts, just as much as the wound in his back, and he roars, trying to shake it off.

It doesn't work.

He tries everything he can think of, short of gnawing his own paw off, until he's so tired, maybe he can just...

 

~

 

He wakes up again, when the sun's gone down. Nothing is familiar to him here. The trees make shaky rustling noises, and he can hear weird animals further along in the bush. He almost calls out, but the jolt from the movement has him keeping quiet - he can't defend himself properly if any creatures want to hurt him.

He is all alone.

The thought is strangely sad.

 

~

 

He wakes again, to the sound of chattering. More specifically, _Stiles'_ chattering.

"- and look what you've done to your leg, you idiot." Stiles has worked his way to a full rant by now, and Derek feels too tired to answer back. So he just lies there, and listens.

"Now it's going to be even worse, because have you seen me?" He gestures down to himself. "Scott, I know, can take care of himself, but I don't know how I'm supposed to hold you down by myself. Hello, skinny little stick here!"

"More like a twig." Derek blinks. He hadn't meant to say anything.

Stiles is glowering at him, but it's not very effective; he looks more like Laura after she falls into the lake (whether or not he helped her in that one time is still debatable), raggled fur and all. His mouth must twitch, because Stiles is looking even fiercer.

"Oh yeah, don't worry about me, I'm the big bad lion, fear me!" he makes ' _wooh_ ' noises to go with his hand gestures, which are getting more and more broader. "Just carry on. I can totally walk around with a huge hole in my back!"

"... sorry."

"What?" Stiles looks surprised, eyes wide. He looks very... fluffy.

"I said, I'm sorry." He sighs, and shifts his leg slightly.

Blinks.

Looks down.

"Oh yeah, I did a good job, right?" Stiles brags. "I had to unscrew the corners which, let me tell you, is not as easy as it looks, especially when it's dark. Scott had to go collect fireflies so I could see what I was doing, and he's absolutely shit at catching them. I think they can smell him - which, do fireflies even have noses? I can't tell, they're too small to check." He points over at Scott, asleep in a corner (thankfully with his... er, facing them, at least).

"It was harder because it was so rusty. That means that the whole thing's really stiff, but that means that none of the humans tend to check here much, so that's good, because seriously, we could do with a little break-"

Derek musters up his strength. Dad always said to be polite. "... thanks. I guess."

Stiles is staring again, but then he beams. "You're welcome." Derek shrugs.

"Hey," Stiles climbs up on top of him. "I told you, no moving."

"Make me."

"I will. I'll do that by- er, sitting on you. Wait, no, I'll sleep on you, and you can't shake me off because I just saved your ass. So there!" He flops onto Derek's shoulder (mindful of his back), and settles down. Within five minutes, he's asleep.

Derek sighs, but settles down again. He doesn't shake Stiles off.

 

~

 

He wakes up because he can feel someone staring at him. It's not Stiles, who's currently drooling into his fur. He internally winces at that.

Scott looks back, calm but for when he looks over at Stiles. It looks like he'd try to drag Stiles away, if it weren't for Derek getting in the way.

"Derek."

"... Scott." They look at each other across the clearing, Stiles still snoring away into his ear.

"Why do you two keep on following me?" Stiles had avoided the question, but he feels that Scott wouldn't. Plus, he wanted to know.

"It's mainly Stiles, really," Scott shrugs. "I just follow to keep him out of trouble. And he just wants to help."

"But why me? It's not like I asked for it."

"Well, why not?" Now Derek's getting frustrated. No creature would do something like that, _especially_ for a lion.

"In case you forgot, I EAT animals like you!" Scott shushes him immediately as he near-yells the last part, and they both freeze as Stiles turns over in his sleep. He doesn't wake.

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" OK, forget that. How have these two avoided being eaten so far? Derek says as much.

"Er," Scott looks bashful. "No one else tends to stick around much. You know, because of the smell thing. Except Stiles, he's a good guy."

"What about both of your parents?" Because they definitely sounded like they needed a minder, at least.

Scott's eyes well up with tears. Oh shit. Luckily he doesn't start crying. "Mom-" he coughs, and blinks a bit. Derek pretends not to notice that, and Scott gives him a watery smile. "- she's alright now, really. And Stiles hasn't seen his parents for a long, long time. He doesn't really know how to talk with the other meerkats anymore."

Now Derek feels like an asshole.

_"My Dad's dead. I killed him."_

He couldn't say that.

They sit in silence, depressing thoughts running through Derek's head until Stiles twitches once too hard, and rolls over onto the ground.

"Ow." Scott chokes out a laugh, and that fully wakes Stiles.

"Haha," he mocks, rubbing the back of his head. "Very funny, guys."

And Derek is pretty surprised to be addressed as well. But not as shocked as what Stiles says next.

"So, big guy, where are we headed off to next?"

"What?" _You want to come with me?,_ he doesn't say. Some of it must still show on his face, though, because Stiles leans forward.

"Dude. We just followed you for like, days, just to free you from a bear trap. Who knows, the next place may be more exciting. Hey, maybe I can meet a cute girl for once!" Scott snorts.

"Not if I see her first." And then they're play-wrestling on the ground (although Scott has the advantage, since he's a lot bigger than Stiles, and can just sit on him).

Derek can only sit there and watch. What had he just let himself in for?


	3. POUNCE

CHAPTER 3: POUNCE

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of BEERRRRRRR...!!!" Stiles' voice pokes straight into the middle of Derek's brain. He winces, growling lowly as the headache grips him. Since Stiles' (OK, and maybe Scott's) touching declaration, Derek had been hoping for some... Well, not peace and quiet, exactly, but... Peace and Quiet.

Then again, like his last plan to run off, Those Two got into the middle of it, and now he's stuck with them. For better or worse.

"Hey Stiles! Stiles, what's a beer?"

"It's a type of water that the humans drink, Scotty. But don't ask me why they need their own special type though. Water is water." He shrugs.

Derek sighs. Again. He just knows that, back hom- somewhere, Uncle Peter is probably laughing at him. Heck, if Laura was here, she'd be laughing at him too-

He hastily stops that line of thinking, shuddering at the memory of what happened the last time Stiles took it upon himself to 'cheer the old Sourcat up'. The elephants up North wouldn't be forgetting them anytime soon. And elephants always remember.

Always.

"Hey Sourcat," Derek's head jerks up to see the other two had stopped in front, and were both looking back at him, lost in thought. He'd stopped without realising.

"You OK, Derek?" Scott asked him, small look of worry on his face. After travelling this far with the two of them (and through many mis/adventures, depending on who was talking), Derek had gotten to know Scott better too, and found him to be more thoughtful, and caring about others' feelings. In short, if a starving hyena came along, Scott would probably try to ask it it's feelings. And then probably get eaten first.

But, despite the dumb and sweet exterior, unlike Stiles, he seemed to realise that Derek sometimes needed his space, and tended to keep an eye on him. On days when Stiles sometimes got to be too much, and Derek was on the verge of snapping and/or giving him a good bite, Scott would always be there to shepherd away the unsuspecting Stiles, still jabbering away... So maybe Scott had his good points after all. And that's the only reason he's still keeping an eye out for Scott.

Not because Stiles would be sad or anything. Of course not.

"I'm fine. Don't be an idiot." He trots up to them, nudging Scott to keep on walking and nearly bumping him over.

"Oi! Watch the goods!" Stiles breaks off from his singing to grab ahold of Scott before he can topple off. "Fragile!"

Derek merely snorts back at him, then in a fit of whimsy, gently pokes Stiles off Scott's back with the tip of one claw.

"Asshole!"

 

~

 

They'd found a good stopping place this time, and privately Derek hoped that they'd be able to settle here for a while, before Stiles inevitably took it upon himself to disturb the natives, and/or accidentally destroy someone's nest, and/or setting up a revolution for the lower aspects of the food chain... 

The other two had stumbled off a while ago in search of some food, "real sustenance, Sourcat, not like you and your 'I can survive on one blade of grass a day' type of shit,' and Scott's hasty "Stiles!" Drowned out his mutter of "I'm a carnivore, I don't EAT grass." Which was a very valid point, no matter what Some People might say.

There was a river nearby, and he'd just ducked down to take a sip, when a loud roar burst through the trees, scattering a flock of birds into the air. He nearly slipped on the rock that he was on as he recognised the familiar sounds of two annoying idiots screaming in panic as they set off the natives. Again.

Damnit.

 

~

 

Stiles ducks under a bush, crawling out through the other side and narrowly missing a large claw pawing at him. Scott, the traitor had ran on ahead, "going to find Derek, I swear!" Echoing in the small dust cloud that he'd left behind, leaving small tiny, DEFENSELESS Stiles to face down the huge, Hungry, LION!!

This was NOT what he'd meant when he'd said that they'd be doing 'something exciting, Derek, you should come too, it's be fun, we need to explore this place because of SAFETY and SECURITY and other -TY things as well, and anyway you'll be coming along to pull my ass out of the fire, since you do that much anyway might as well make sure that I don't even get in trouble in the first place right?'

Derek was not impressed, and had summarily abandoned them to go look for somewhere to nap off the headache.

He skids to a halt as he comes to the edge of the river. On one hand, safety if he swims across. But water takes FOREVER to dry out of his fur, plus he just ate, and no exercise for an hour after eating, right?

Another roar, sounding much, much closer behind him than before.

On the other hand, Stiles gets to keep himself in one piece, no missing pieces chomped off or anything. He leaps...

... and the same paw that he's been dodging for a while now clamps a hold around his body, trapping his arms as it slams him done to the ground. Touchdown, he thinks dizzily... OK, I'm gonna black out now.

And he does.

 

~

 

Derek jumps out of the foliage, Scott's wheezed out directions echoing in his head, along with "Big... *roar*...!" along with accompanying gestures making him less cautious than he should probably be. But Stiles is in danger.

The other lion (lioness, really, some part of him notes. And shouldn't the two be able to tell the difference by now?) turns around from where she was poking the unconscious bundle of fur at her feet. Some part of Derek is relieved to notice that there's no blood around, no angry red puddle surrounding Stiles...

And the rest of him gapes in shock and surprise, as much as the other lioness is staring at him, as she near-whispers out, "Derek?"

"... Laura?" He chokes out.

Stiles fuzzily raises his head from where he's flopped down, spots the huge lioness still standing over him, and promptly faints again with a small "eep!".


	4. CRY

CHAPTER 4: CRY

Derek stands, embarrassed, as Stiles and Scott try unsuccessfully to hide behind him from Laura. She watches as Scott trips over Stiles' tail, again, and falls flat on his face. Again. She gives him a wry look.

"So this is what you've been up to while you were gone," she says. She doesn't look very impressed with his life choices. Derek cringes.

"Well... er..." he stops, not sure of what to say. Luckily, there's someone else who'd never run out of words.

"... So, you know Sourcat?" Stiles asked from his safe position, perched behind Derek's ear. Scott peers around, ears perked up in interest. Derek ignores the two of them with growing ease, as he scowls back at Laura. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I-? I think I should be asking you that question instead. Where have you been?!?" Laura scowls back just as hard, and he nearly flinches back before he stops himself.

"Nowhere. Just... Go away, Laura." She frowns at him.

"Go _away_ Laura," she mimics in a squeaky voice, eyes narrowed.

"Stop that."

"Stop that."

"No, you stop." Before she pounces on him like they were cubs again, he raises a paw and tries to push her ineffectively away. "Go away Laura."

"No. Not until you come back with me."

"Laura."

"Well, as interesting as this is," and they both blink. Stiles and Scott had moved to a safer spot, and were watching him and Laura like they were going to pounce and eat them. Which... made sense, because of Laura. "Could we get introductions first? I don't really fancy being offered as pre-dinner snacks, especially to visitors with big teeth." Laura grins widely at that, making sure that her teeth gleam in the light.

Laura is _such_ a troll.

Speak of the devil, she pokes him gently with a claw. "Go on then, don't be rude."

Derek sighs, but as he's faced with identical pleading/pouting looks, he relents. "Laura, the short one is Scott. The tiny one is Stiles."

He ignores the twin "Hey!"s and gestures to Laura. "This is my sister."

The two stare. And blink. And blinking stares- "Wow, you sure she didn't get all of the pretty genes?"

"Excuse me?" Derek scowls at him automatically, over the sound of Laura's snort of laughter.

She swats the back of his head, before moving forward. "I like these guys. You, short stuff." She gestures impatiently in their general direction.

"Yes," they both reply, before getting into one of their arguments again. "She was talking to me-" "No, you idiot, she meant me!" "I'm Short, you're Tiny!" Derek glances at Laura from the side. She looks like she's one step away from cackling outright as the two idiots get into another scuffle in front of her. He gives into the urge to hide his face with his paw.

 

~

 

They'd gotten settled for the night, in a small clearing away from the local nightlife. Scott and Stiles had found a fellow friendly spirit in Laura, and they'd stayed up late exchanging stories and embarrassing Derek. It's later now, and he can hear loud snoring over the backdrop of night crickets going to bed.

A branch breaks, before Laura steps up beside him, lying by himself over on the other half of the clearing. "You've got good friends there." She nudges him playfully, and he automatically bumps her back before he can stop himself.

"They're not my friends." Laura studies his closed-off expression, before she drops the goofy tone.

"You sure they're not?" She steps closer again, and quickly knocks her head against his own in a sharp tap. "Ow!" he near-shouted. "Lau~ra!!" Behind him, the wind rustles, and Stiles turns over in his sleep, murmuring nonsense in his sleep. Derek wrinkles his nose at the uncomfortable-looking pose. Stiles always sleeps weird, although he says it's because he's used to softer beds.

"Don't pout, bro. You're definitely too old to get away with it." Derek doesn't give her an opening, opting to turn away entirely.

"Derek." Laura sounds strained now, like she's trying not to yell at him. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"What's there to talk about."

Laura paddles forward to stare him in the face. "You're trying to hide something," she says. "You always make that face."

"Laura..." he sighs, again. He has to make it a clean break. He can't let her know how he'd killed their Dad by being stupid. "Go home."

"I can't!" she near-yells, mindful of the sleepers. He can't tell if she's angry or sad, but she's definitely upset. "You've been gone for weeks, Derek, weeks! And now with Dad gone and killed by the humans-" maybe he flinches, or maybe his stillness gives him away. Laura Looks at him. "Derek. Please."

And he doesn't know what she's asking, whether she's asking him to talk, or... go home, but. He _can't_.

He can't.

"I'm sorry," he says, and now he can't stop the tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry Laura. I killed Dad."

"... what?" Laura near-whispers in shock.

And Derek is crying now, big fat tears that clog up his nose and throat. He shakes his head. _Please don't make me say it again_ , he asks with his eyes. _**Please**_.

Laura comes up to him, up close, and before he can run away she flops herself down on top of him, just like she used to when she won their little fights. He basks guiltily in the warmth, and that sets him off even more. She shushes him gently, nudging his head with hers, over and over. He buries his tears in her fur. "Derek, Derek, it's OK, I'm here, we can get through this..."

They stay that way until the sun rises, and the heat wakes the others up, but even as they move on, she stays close to his side.


End file.
